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Sermons

“What Angers God” based on Amos 8:1-12

  • July 17, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

Most of the time, when people quote Amos, they quote the sweet part (Amos 5:24) which says, “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” What they miss is that the verse they know is in the midst of more pieces just like the one we just read. The paragraph that verse is in, is attributed to God, saying:

21 I hate, I despise your festivals,
and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.
22 Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings,
I will not accept them;
and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals
I will not look upon.
23 Take away from me the noise of your songs;

I will not listen to the melody of your harps.
24 But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

25 Did you bring to me sacrifices and offerings the forty years in the wilderness, O house of Israel? 26You shall take up Sakkuth your king, and Kaiwan your star-god, your images that you made for yourselves;27therefore I will take you into exile beyond Damascus, says the Lord, whose name is the God of hosts.

I say that mostly so that you don’t think our passage from Amos today is the weird part of the book. Amos loves justice and righteousness, and he speaks about a God who cares about how people are treated. But, even for prophets, Amos isn’t a cheerful one. He believes that the people of God have utterly failed to uphold their end of the covenant and that their utter destruction is imminent. He says so, and people hate it.

Looking at today’s text, this is one of the times that Biblical translation totally ruins the play on words. Amos sees a basket of summer fruit and the word for “summer fruit” sounds like the word for “end.” Therefore the first hearers would have noticed the play on words and been able to follow, but for us the textual connection is just obscure. We are left to trust the Hebrew scholars who tell us that it goes like. that This is a vision and a pronouncement about the end of life as Israel knew it.

Most scholars think that the book of Amos reflects prophetic oracles that derive from Amos himself, although they have been edited and a false ending added to soften the original end of the book! They think it came into its present form during the exile (587-539 BCE), so about 200 years after the prophet lived and spoke. As one scholar puts is, the oracles of Amos, “mainly condemned the ruling class in the north for their oppressive treatment of poor and needy members of society, and threatened that Israel would be punished by God, probably by military invasion and defeat. … Amos does not condemn Israel for faithless foreign policies; rather, he concentrates on the treatment of one section of society by another.”1 This oracle certainly fits that description.

There is a lot of destruction predicted, and that may reflect both the historical sayings of Amos and the historical remembering of both the Northern Exile (722 BCE) and the Southern one, since it got written down after both of them. I would like to focus, though, on the complaints that Amos names as the issues God is having with the people:

that they “trample on the needy”

and “bring to ruin the poor of the land”

they are impatient with religious observance, wanting to get back to making money

they cheat the people with improper weights and measures

they are “buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals”

instead of selling food to people, they sell them mostly inedible food leftovers

These are both individual and communal wrongdoings. While each individual seller is responsible for their own actions which are wrong, that’s not all that is happening. It is because EVERYONE is doing this trampling that the poor are trampled. If some of the merchants were fair, people would have good options. If there were regulations of weights and measures, the people couldn’t be cheated. Society has to look the other way, and the empowered have to choose to do nothing in order for the poor and powerless to be so completely decimated. The wrong that is done is done by each person doing it and by the whole for not stopping it.  

The line “buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals” is one of the more provoking in the Bible. It exemplifies the reality of greed – that when one person is trying to get rich, the people they are getting rich off of are paying the price. In reality, this was likely happening. It was common in ancient days (and ones not so long ago) for people to get so deeply into debt that they would sell themselves or their children into slavery to pay off the debt. The vision of God in the Torah which forbids interest AND forbids the selling of ancestral land, seeks to create a society without people being sold to pay off debts, but the people weren’t living that vision. People were cheating each other to make greater profits off of sandals, and those who were poor and vulnerable were being bought and sold because of the injustices of those profit margins.

I can imagine the justification of the grain sellers in the markets in Bethel, their responses to hearing Amos’s claims. Can’t you? They would say, “I have to feed my family! And I can’t do that if I sell the wheat in pure form because the harvest wasn’t good enough.” They would say, “I know my scale isn’t balanced, but did you see the guy over there? His is way worse!” They would say, “Yes, I’m doing OK for myself, but I work hard and I’ve earned what I have!” They would say, “It is the people’s choice to buy where they want, it isn’t my responsibility to take care of their well-being.” They would say, “If you don’t have enough money, you don’t get to buy the good stuff.” They would self-justify to the end, and in doing so deny their shared humanity with the people who happened to be poor or needy.

This spring I went to a training put on by the United Methodist Women about Human Sexuality so that I qualified to teach “Human Sexuality” MissionU this summer. They’re coming quickly! During the exercises we did to experience the curriculum we heard from a survivor of child sex trafficking. In the video she mentioned how many children are trafficked and how many people they were expected to sleep with every night. I did the math my head. By low estimates, 2,000,000 times a night, a child is paid for sex in our country. Suddenly it occurred to me that this means that there are A LOT of people choosing to use the bodies of children in this way. My mind was blown. I had no idea that so many people were engaged in such behavior, and it made me rethink our society as a whole.

It also led me to continued research, and I found quotations from men who bought sex with sex workers which are entirely too disturbing to be read from this pulpit.2 Even more distressing was that according to the research that is out there (which is mostly LOUSY by the way) the people who are buying sex are pretty NORMAL. Talk about “buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandal” though! People who have enough to spend some as discretionary income are using it to buy access to the bodies of people who have no choice. (Although I acknowledge the reality that there are people who choose out of true free will and not just economic circumstances to sell their bodies, I believe that is rare enough and the harms done to those who do not truly have choice are severe enough that it is worth focusing on those who do not have control.) Most of sex that is bought and sold is done of desperation, addiction, and usually a lack of control over one’s life. Yet, people buy it.

People BUY access to another person’s body – quite often young girls who have been taken away from their families and friends. It is very clear to me that the harms that Amos spoke about, the “buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandal” are very much still alive and well here and today. In Schenectady we know that there is plenty of prostitution and sex trafficking, and we know that once the casino opens we will have a lot more.

We also know, at least if we are listening to Amos, that God cares about the people that society ignores. The poor, the needy, the disenfranchised, the “least, the last, the lost, and the lonely” to name a few. God gets upset over the treatment of people who society tries to pretend don’t exist.

This week I was given the honor of being invited to sit on a panel to talk about the #BlackLivesMatter movement in Schenectady, and in particular the relationship between minority communities and our police forces. There were many articulate comments made about the ways that people who live in dark skin are told that they don’t matter. Some of the worst of those are known to us in the homicides perpetrated by police, but there are a million tiny cuts that happen every day in our city and county and country to people in dark skin.

Our society defines some people as mattering and others as not. That’s why we have to say #BlackLivesMatter. That’s why we have to be informed about sex trafficking and think about the reality that people BUY one another – if even only for minutes at a time. God is angered by the ways we dehumanize each other. God is angered when we allow injustice to fester and the vulnerable to pay the price. I’ve said before, and I still believe that the root sin is dehumanizing other beloved children of God. Everything derives from that.

Amos threaten the people with being abandoned by God, defeated in war, and the destroyed by an earthquake. That is to say, he thought God was angry, and angry enough to act on behalf of the people that the king and his empowered court had abandoned. I agree that God is angry, although I disagree with Amos about God’s methods. Given the injustices of today, I simply hear God crying and begging us to pay attention all of God’s people.

In the #BlackLivesMatter conversation we were encouraged to participate in Study Circles (I believe they will be coming back and we will get information out), to talk to people are different than we are, and to continue the work of educating ourselves on racism and – where it applies – white privilege. There is also a plan for continued conversation in our city.

With regard to sex workers and human trafficking, there is a a local resource that is doing great work. (Please consider this your mission moment in the sermon.) “Patty’s Place is a drop-in support and referral center for women engaged in sex work. They provide basic services such as food, showers, hygiene items, clothing, HIV testing, and a secure resting place, which help these women be safer in their current lives. They also offer counseling and referrals for longer-term services that can help women improve their lives and leave the sex trade. Most of the women with whom they work have suffered from years of abuse and have a variety of overlapping problems and needs. Patty’s Place gives these women a network of supportive relationships and help navigating the diverse services they need.” If you want to help, their two biggest needs are volunteers and donations. Volunteers are needed to do outreach and to do administration work. Donations are useful both as money and as supplies. Today they are mostly needing new underwear in all sizes and deodorant. If you get donations to us, we will get them to Patty’s place.

As the casino gets closer to opening, we are needing to prepare for expansions of dehumanization in our city. Studies tell us that there will be more trafficking and more people looking to buy sex. They also tell us that there will be more corruption, which means more injustice. There will likely be more crime, and more of it violent. As incumbent as it already is on us to re-humanize other people, and to recognize all people as beloved by God, there are going to be new challenges to that work. The current projections are that the casino will open in the first quarter of 2017.

There is a lot of work to do. Some of it, however, is in getting quiet and listening. We are not going to be able to invert all of the damage to our communities created by the city. Singlehandedly, we cannot even solve the struggles our city already has. We will need to focus a bit, listen for how we are best able to rehumanize God’s people, and get ready to do it.  That is, while I encourage us to continue the work of building the kin-dom, loving the people, transforming injustice, and acknowledging all of God’s children, I also encourage us ALL to take some deep breaths. Maybe even a few months of deep breaths. Things are going to get harder around here, and we are going to need to be calm, centered, steady, and supportive of each other to be useful in changing things.

We aren’t called to be like the merchants in Bethel that Amos spoke to. Instead, we are called to take responsibility for the ways that our society diminishes beloved children of God, and do our part to change it. Some of that involves being quiet and observant to notice what is going on. Thanks be to God that there are so many ways we can participate in acts of love and justice. Thanks be to God that we are called both to action AND to Sabbath. May we learn to do both well. Amen

1John Barton “Introduction to Amos” in The New Interpreter’s Study Bible edited by Walter J Harrelson (Abingdon Press: Nashville, 2003) 1279

2Two of them, “Prostitution is renting an organ for 10 minutes” and “Being with a prostitute is like having a cup of coffee, when you’re done, you throw it out” found at http://www.ksufreedomalliance.org/sex-trafficking.html

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 17. 2016

Sermons

“Listening and Receiving”based on 2 Kings 5:1-14 and Luke 10:1-11

  • July 3, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

70
people are sent out by Jesus, two by two. 70 is a symbolic number. In
Exodus, Moses was assisted by 70 elders and in Genesis 10 there is a
listing of all the nations of the world: they number 70.  While all
the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) tell the story of
Jesus sending out the 12 disciples 2 by 2, only Luke includes this
story of sending out the 70 (which in some ancient manuscripts is 72,
but we’re going to just live with 70).  

It
is possible that this feels a bit repetitive, since Luke says in
chapter 9 that Jesus sent out the 12 disciples in a similar manner.
However, there is something really strange about this story, MUCH
more interesting than the version a chapter before. That is, Jesus
sends out the 12 disciples in Galilee, the area that he spent most of
his life and most of his ministry.  However, in chapter 10 he is in
SAMARIA, on his way to Jerusalem.  He sends out these 70 people to
EXACTLY the communities that most people at the time found most
distasteful.

This
is possibly the most Jesus thing I’ve ever heard.  He sends out this
massive group of people to places they’d be radically uncomfortable,
AND refuses them any comforts:  they can have no purse or bag nor
(extra?) sandals.  They’re on their own dependent on the hospitality
of people they’ve never met and are likely terrified of.  They’re
told to go into people’s homes, receive their hospitality, and eat
their food and drink their drinks.
When he sent out the 12 in Galilee he didn’t bother specifically
telling them to eat and drink what they are given. This only happens
when he sends them out in Samaria.

You
remember, right, the Samaritans were so hated that people FREAKED OUT
at the idea that Jesus would receive a cup of water from one? The
Samaritans were so hated that the whole point of one of the most
well-loved parables is the unexpected twist that a Samaritan could be
the hero. (Ironically, and to keep things confusing, in the 2nd
Kings reading the word Samaria is used interchangeably with Israel.
That’s because it predates the first exile. That is, it was from a
time when Samaria, Israel, and Judah were all united, well before
Jesus.)

At
the time of Jesus, Samaritans practiced faith differently. The
followers of Jesus were Jews, I think very traditional Jews, part of
a recommitment to orthodox practice sort of Jews.  The Samaritans
were NOT CONSIDERED Jews (although that’s yet another example of the
bias itself.)  To make this a bit clearer: good, deeply faithful Jews
at the time were very careful about what they ate, when they ate it,
and how it it had been prepared. That was part of how they expressed
their faithfulness to God. Being sent out into Samaria to be welcomed
into people’s homes as strangers and to EAT THEIR FOOD …. wasn’t
kosher. (giggle)  Literally. 😉  But the story says Jesus sent out 70
people into Samaria anyway, and specifically told them to eat and
drink what they were given to eat and drink.

This
relates to the vision of Peter in Acts 10, where Peter has a vision
of God telling him to consume food otherwise thought unclean.  The
fact that the stories reflect each other isn’t a surprise, as Luke
and Acts are really the same book by the author: Part 1 is Luke and
Part 2 is Acts (the fact that they are not one after another in our
Bible is an atrocity.)  It does make me doubt the veracity of this
story, but only the “I don’t think the facts add up to be terribly
like to have ACTUALLY HAPPENED” way. I think the story reflects a
deep and abiding set of truths about God, about Jesus, about the
Jesus movement, and about breaking open barriers that would otherwise
divide people, and that’s WAY more important than it actually having
happened.  However, as I find this story to be completely and utterly
delightful, I sort of hope I’m wrong.  

Going
back into the story as it’s own narrative again, Jesus
doesn’t just send them out to eat and drink.  He sends them out to
heal
and to give a message, “The
kingdom of God has come near to you.”
That message is the one that Jesus shares over and over again.
Really, the combination of healing and that simple message are the
THEMES of the Gospels, everything else is an expansion on those
ideas.  

The
Gospels are full of healing narratives, usually done by Jesus
himself.  In our passage today though, we see the expansion of the
work from Jesus to his followers, a reminder that the expansion
extends all the way out to us.  Healing, of course, takes on many
forms.  It can be physical, emotional, or spiritual, and at times the
most appropriate healing is death itself.  Our work as followers of
Christ is to participate in the healing, in a holistic way.  This is
good, as not all of us are medical professionals, but all of us can
participate in healing ourselves, each other, and the world.  

My
friend the Rev. Dr. Barbara Thorington Green suggests that the power
of Jesus to heal was located in his ability to really truly SEE and
HEAR people, and to LOVE THEM as they really are and show them how
loved they were. She suspects that much of what harms us would be
healable if we knew that we were seen, heard, and loved as we are.
The work of healing, then, is also the work of loving – work we are
all called to do whether it is easy or hard for us.

To
see, to hear, and to share love with a person is also known as the
work of LISTENING.  Listening is a profoundly healing act.  This
isn’t just something that Jesus could do.  It is passed on to us
along with the rest of the work of the Body of Christ.  If you’ve
been playing along with my sermons over the past year or two, you may
already know that I’m excited about Nonviolent Communication as a
means of grace.

Nonviolent
communications is a system of both listening and speaking meant to
bring healing and wholeness into the world.  It
is an act of love with power.
It happens in 4 parts, whether it is an act of listening or of
speaking.  When it is an act of listening, a person practicing
Nonviolent communication: listens for observations of what happened
(which may involve asking some questions), then listens for feelings
about what happened (this may also involve some questions, or even
making some guesses), then listens to what the person’s deep need is
that connected the experience itself to the feeling that emerged
(yes, yes, this too might involve questions or guesses), and finally
seeks to understand what the person would want in order to make life
more wonderful after being heard about the experience, the feeling(s)
and the need(s).  This last bit is listening for a request. Often the
request is really just to be heard!

I
wonder if the work of healing that the disciples and the 70 were sent
out to do had to do with deep listening and thereby sharing the
wonder of love itself.  I’ve seen that work system, rather well and
quite frequently.

In
Nonviolent Communication Theory, there is a concept of universal
human needs.  One of the lists of these needs includes 90 of them,
under the categories: connection, honesty, play, peace, physical
well-being, meaning, and autonomy.  All of us have all the needs, all
the time, and this theory suggests that what we say and do is always
related to getting our needs met.  Some of the ways we seek to get
our needs met are more effective than others, and some cause less
harm than others. Knowing our needs, and making direct requests tends
to help us get the needs met, and do it without impeding anyone
else’s capacity to met their needs!  

(It
may also be helpful to note that not all needs are equally important
to everyone.  For example, I have noticed that a lot of what I do is
about meeting my needs to contribute to the world,  experience
efficacy, and keep things in balance.  Everyone else probably has a
different subset of needs that they tend toward most strongly.)
Also, FYI, we are offering another class on Nonviolent communication
this fall!  Stay on the lookout for more information.  

We
can see listening like this (and nonviolent communication) in the
Hebrew Bible text, if we read into it a little bit.  The Israelite
slave girl observes
that Naaman has leprosy.  She seems to feel
sad about that, and finds in herself a need
to contribute to his well-being.  So she suggests (this is an
indirect form of a request)
that he might find healing through Elisha.  She seems to be
suggesting that her life would be more wonderful if his was as well!
And she is heard!

I
think the most interesting example of nonviolent communication comes
when Naaman gets a response from Elisha to “’Go,
wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and
you shall be clean.’“ That’s what happened (observation), and he
feels ANGRY.  It turns out his expectations weren’t getting met.  He
expected to be healed in person, something he very well may have
associated with being RESPECTED as an important person.  So, I’m
thinking his need TO MATTER wasn’t being met!  

When
his servants heard him, and heard him well, they were able to respond
to his need and help him reframe the possibilities. They helped him
meet his need to matter in how they listened to him and responded to
him, and that freed him up!  Once his need to matter was being met,
he was able to give the washing in the River Jordan a try.

Truly,
in this story, people do a lot of good listening (and some good
speaking) that ends up making a big difference:

  • The
    slave girl listens to the issues of her masters – and with a tender
    heart.
  • The
    mistress listens to the advice of her slave.
  • A
    spouse listens to the advice of another spouse.  
  • A
    king listens to a general.
  • A
    king listens to a prophet (that almost NEVER happens in the Bible).
  • And
    then the general listens to his servants, and to the prophet.

All
in all, this whole story is extraordinary, more so in the listening
than in the healing that ensues.  Repeatedly
people listen to others who would normally be considered below them,
and are blessed by the wisdom imparted.
It is a case where listening to seemingly strange advice leads to an
unexpectedly good outcome. Namaan’s listening is imperative to his
healing. It allows others to bless him with their knowledge and
wisdom! He was able to receive the gifts they wanted to give him
because he listened to them.  They were able to give him the gifts he
needed, because they listened as well.  

Between
the gift of prayer itself, which is (among other things) the
experience of being listened to with love by the Holy One’s Own Self,
and the ways we are gifted by being able to be listened to by each
other, there are many opportunities for healing in our lives.
Assuming the veracity of the sending out of the 70, I still don’t
really know what they did.  But I rather love the idea that they
might have been listening to people and thereby connecting them to
the love of God! It could have been very healing for everyone
involved, especially when it happened across boundaries that weren’t
supposed to be crossed!

Dear
Ones, as you leave this place, I hope you will find ways to listen:
to each other, to strangers, to others you meet along the way, to the
Holy One, and to the deepest part of yourselves.  The gift of healing
is as close at hand as our ability to listen.  May we practice well.
Amen

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady 

July 3, 2016

Sermons

“The Kindom of God”based on Psalm 42:1-6a, Luke 8:26-39

  • June 19, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

I spent a large portion of my seminary years at a gay nightclub called Oasis, which, as it was located in “The Inland Empire” in Southern California was largely populated by Latino men. Being a pastoral intern and learning how to be a pastor often felt like walking on a tightrope. Being a seminarian felt like being a head without a body. I went to the club to hang out with my friends. I went to the club to dance. I went to the club in defiance of what everyone expected me to be doing in seminary. I went to the club because it was so much nicer than going to straight clubs and being creepily hit on.

Mostly though, I went to the club to be more fully human. The darkened space, the deep pulsing of the bass, the squeals of delight, the sweating bodies, and the freedom to MOVE balanced my life. It got me out of my head, and into the wholeness of my body. It was a sanctuary from TRYING so hard to BE and to BECOME someone other than who I was. It was part of being a whole person, and not just a desexualized, dehumanized, pastoral person. It was fun, it was ridiculous at times, and it was definitely fully embodied.

As a straight, white, cisgender seminary student, the mostly Latin gay club was a sanctuary for the fullness of my humanity. It was safe space to be. For the men I went dancing with, the space was far more important. It was community, it was family, (it was a dating pool), it was space where they were allowed to look at (and often touch) other men without reproach. For the men and women who might otherwise have been closeted, I suspect the space was even more important. It was a place to be accepted as who they were, even if mostly anonymously. For those from families and communities who believed that God’s grace had limits, it was space to shake off those shackles and be free.

All week I’ve heard of the gay club as “sanctuary,” and all the more so on Latin night for people who are Latino, Latina, and Latinx. Personally, I believe it, because on my own micro scale, I’ve lived it. I believe it, because I can imagine a little bit, how much more important the experience of sanctuary has been for those for whom the space was actually made – the very same people for whom most churches are places of violence rather than safety.

As followers of Jesus, our lives are meant to be focused on building the kindom of God. It is the work that Jesus was doing in his life time, and it is the work we continue as the Body of Christ through our lifetimes. The kindom of God is the world as God would have it be: a time when the resources of the world are shared with freedom and all people have enough to survive and thrive. The kindom of God is the time when all people treat each other as the closest of kin, taking care of each other and supporting each other’s needs.

This was the work of Jesus. He found ways to help people connect with each other and support each other even in the midst of the challenges of the Roman Empire’s occupation of Galilee and Judea. This is the work we are still at. Weeks like this past one are ones when we are particularly aware of how far the world is from the kindom.

Like broken Gentile man in the gospel, the brokenness of our world is Legion. Thinking only of Orlando, there are so many ways that the kindom of God was desecrated. The work of the kindom is toward peace and wholeness: violence defiled it. The work of the kindom is toward safety and security: gunshots profaned it. The work of the kindom is to end racism and acknowledge the profound beauty and humanity of people with all skin tones: the kindom was violated when ever more vulnerable brown-skipped bodies were filled with bullets.  The work of the kindom is to eliminated xenophobia and acknowledge our shared humanity with people from all nations and ethnicity: the kindom was profaned in the targeted attack on the Latin community. The work of the kindom is to build up the vulnerable and enable all people to live full and abundant lives: the kindom was defaced when the targeted population was the vulnerable LGBTQI community. The work of the kindom is to care for the sick and injured, including the mentally ill and injured: the work of the kindom was dishonored by the ways the shooter failed to be treated.

Friends, a massacre happened at a gay club on Latin night. The horrors are Legion. The world is so broken.

Yet, our question today is the same question we bring everyday: what is our role in bringing the kindom of God today? It seems that there are many ways forward. One is living into the grief, which must be one. Another is in letting the anger within us rise and motivated us to action, which also must be done. But for today, for this one day, my sense is that our role in brining the kindom of God is to at rest and to be comforted. The comfort won’t take away the grief, and it won’t take away the anger. But in the midst of tragedy, one of God’s yearnings is to comfort the people, and one of our responsibilities is to receive the comfort.

In our tradition, even Sunday is seen as a mini-Easter, a day to remember the power of God to bring life into the world. In our tradition, as in many, the space in which we gather to worship is a “sanctuary.” The word itself comes from Latin through French, deriving from Latin “sanctus” for “holy.” Because the law of the medieval church held that no one could be arrested in a sanctuary, another meaning derived as well, one that indicates that a fugitive is safe and immune from those who would harm them. At times, our church sanctuaries still function in that way.

Gathering together in holy space, where all are meant to be safe, to celebrate the work of the Living God over and over again is part of the rhythm and ritual of building the kindom. Our sanctuaries are the places we experience enough safety to be able to connect with God, with each other, and with the deepest parts of ourselves. They are imperative to the creation of the kindom, as they are what the kindom will actually be (just on a bigger scale!) They are imperative to the creation of the kindom because they form us into kindom people.

Gathering in this space today, we bring with us grief, anger, confusion, and fear – at least. In this sacred space I hope we are able to let go of our grip on each of those and let God’s love and hope find a home in us again. We gather in this space, letting God comfort and heal us, resting in faith that God’s comfort and healing will be with all those who need it.As one scholar reminded me this week, “the words ‘heal’ and ‘save’ are the same in Greek.”1 That’s a fact to put in your memory bank and keep the next time someone says something theologically stupid. It will keep your head from exploding. 😉 One of the most consistent messages of Christianity has been “Our God saves.” When translated to “Our God heals” this is a message to soak in. In the Gospel lesson, God working through Jesus heals a man whose harms are “Legion.” In and through us, and others, God is at work to heal the world’s Legion harms as well.

Some of our response requires us to pay attention to grace, wonder, and beauty around us. Today we had the opportunity to participate in the sacrament of baptism, officially welcoming Kate Rosemary into the Body of Christ, and promising to teach her how to love God and God’s people. What a source of wonder she is! What a joy it is to see her thriving! What a source of life renewal and energy she is! This beautiful, happy baby and her loving wise parents remind us of the goodness of life. The wonder of baptism reminds us all that we are welcome among God’s people. There is a lot to be grateful for.

Today we also have the opportunity to celebrate the High School graduation of Chris Rambo Jr. As many here remember, Chris Jr. and his faith Chris Sr. came to this church when Chris Jr. was young and many pieces of his soul still hurt. Chris Sr. was in the process of adopting him, a call he had known for many years. This church baptized Chris Jr., and confirmed him, has celebrated him and occasionally scolded him, loved him, and expressed how proud they are of him.

I don’t know what Chris Jr.’s live would have been like without Chris Sr., but I imagine most of his achievements would not have been possible. He would not have been on the Academic Honor Roll at the Capital Region Career and Technical School in his Junior and Senior Years. He would not have volunteered for the Crop Walk, fundraised for the BOCES Christmas Toy Drive, packed Thanksgiving dinners, insulated homes for Habitat for Humanity and Global Volunteers, walked dogs at the Damien Center, performed hurricane relief in Schoharie County, sang Christmas carols to shut-ins, performed maintenance at Sky Lake Camp & Retreat Center, and served many breakfasts and dinners at First United Methodist and Schenectady City Mission. He would have not become a volunteer fire fighter, nor a certified scuba diver, nor Red Cross certified in First Aid and CPR for Adults, Children,

and Infants. He likely would not have been able to play volleyball, wrestling, and basketball for Guilderland. And quite likely his life would not have made it possible for him to enter the Automotive Technology Program at Hudson Valley Community College this Fall.

God’s love has been the motivating force in Chris Sr.’s life for a very long time. God nudged Chris to become a father to someone who needed him, and Chris to the call very seriously. Chris Jr. was a hurting, struggling kid whose life has been transformed by his father’s love and by the love of the adults he has come to know through his many activities and this church. His life and his successes are proof of the power of the love of God in the world. Healing has come. Life is good. There is much to be grateful for.

Friends who went to Orlando this week reported the existence of dance parties. The LGBTQI community was healing itself through dance. The Latino/Latina/Latinx community was healing itself through dance. The same experience that had been violated with horrific violence was reclaimed to continue its work of healing. There are many too deep in grief to dance.  There are may too profoundly wounded to dance. There are way too many who will never dance again. Yet those who could and would, danced. The life-force in them required reclaiming their bodies, their anthems, their lives, their space, their sanctuaries.

It is time to reclaim sanctuaries. I say this as act of defiance. Acts of terrorism and violence, particularly mass murders in communal spaces are intended to make us afraid. Sanctuaries have been violated, but they must be reclaimed. Fear has been poured into the water of our country and our world, but we cannot continue to drink from it.

We must reclaim sanctuary in this space and for the world for the sake of the kindom. We be formed into full expressions of God’s love while we live in fear. So, our work is to make space for the wonder: for Katie Rosemary, for Chris Jr, and for dance parties. Our work is to attend to the goodness along with the horrors. Our work is to find space and people among whom we feel safe and to soak in the goodness. Our “work” is to let God comfort us, and bring us rest. Having hung with God before, I suspect this work will transform itself soon enough! We might as well enjoy Sabbath, Sanctuary, rest and comfort for now – for the sake of the kindom. Amen

Sermon Talkback Questions

  1. What emotions did you bring with you today?
  2. Are there other aspects of the Legions of horrors that need to be named?
  3. When have you experienced sanctuary most profoundly?
  4. What do you sense God calling you/us to today?
  5. What else is necessary in you/us to feed us for the building of the kindom?
  6. I listed Kate’s baptism, Chris Jr’s graduation, (really, Chris Sr’s adoption of Chris Jr), and dance parties in Orlando as signs of hope. I really wanted to add the “act of nonconformity” passed by the New England Annual Conference. What else did you want to add?
  7. How else do we reject fear?
  8. Where and how else can we work to reclaim sacred space? (Dancing works for me, what works for you?)

1  James W. Thomas “Exegetical Perspective on Luke 8:26-39” , p. 171 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 19, 2016

Sermons

“Power, Privilege, and God” based on 1 Kings 21:1-10 and…

  • June 12, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

King Ahab wants something. He really really wants it. It isn’t at all clear WHY he wants it. He wants a piece of land that is adjacent to his palace property in the village of Jezreel. Now, the capital and primary palace was in Samaria. Jezreel was, at best, a secondary palace. Why would anyone care so much about space for a vegetable garden near their second home? I mean, the story says that after he asked for the land and was rebuffed, he was physically ill. As one commentator put it, “King Ahab is made sick by his greed for a vineyard he cannot have.”1

Why? Because from the perspective of nearly 3000 years later, this doesn’t seem worth getting bent out of shape about. I guess that isn’t really a reasonable standard for humanity though. 😉 Most of us, most of the time, can’t really figure out if something will matter tomorrow, much less next month.

Now, King Ahab of Israel is said by the Bible to be the worst king who had ever ruled (to that point). He was particularly terrible. Six chapters of the book of 1 Kings exist primarily to talk about how awful he was.

Even given that, I’ve been trying to figure out how a person could get obsessed with having one particular property for a vegetable garden. In some ways it feels familiar, this way of obsessing over wanting something that doesn’t matter at all. It feels familiar to how I’ve watched myself function at times, and it feels familiar to how I’ve seen others function as well. There are a few ways I’ve watched us all do this:

  1. We decide we want something – just because we see it and think to want it. Sometimes, we then become obsessed.
  2. We decide we want something because we can’t have it, and that makes it attractive in and of itself. Sometimes, we then become obsessed.
  3. We decide we want something because someone tells us we can’t have it, and we want to prove them wrong. Sometimes, we then become obsessed.
  4. We decide we want something because we really need something else entirely and we tell ourselves that this will help us get what we really need. Sometimes, we then become obsessed.
  5. We decide we want something because some one else has it. Sometimes, we then become obsessed.
  6. This has been known to happen to humans – with some frequency. I suspect that most of the time, when we as humans want someTHING, we’re wrong. We don’t want that thing. We want whatever it is we associate with that thing as its meaning.

That is, I wonder what King Ahab REALLY wanted. Was he undernourished and wanting more satiating food? Was he hoping to entertain and make connections with someone and worried that the food he had to offer wasn’t sufficient? Was he continuing the normal human system of searching for safety and security through a constant desire to acquire more? Was he wanting to build community by having enough food to make gifts of it to others? Did he actually really like growing food and intend to spend time in the beauty of the space?

It seems likely his desire was motivated even more deeply than that. If he was like the rest of us, he probably wanted the land because of some story he was telling himself, that he wasn’t aware of as a story. What could the story have been? Was he looking for affirmation that he mattered by telling himself the story that if he could build a bigger secondary palace he would be more respected in the world? Was his story about trying to be as good at being king as his father was, and thinking that he could gain (posthumous) acceptance from his father by building up his holdings? Was his story about seeking a deeper relationship of love with his wife by being able to be more impressive to her? Was he trying to prove to himself that he had a purpose in the world, and needing to have a pet project at all times to feel at peace with the fact that he would die?

That’s what the Biblical account doesn’t tell us – it doesn’t tell us what the land meant to Ahab. I don’t think it is possible that the land was really about the land, because that’s not how humans work! We are, usually subconsciously, telling ourselves stories about what things mean beyond what they actually mean. And those stories that we tell ourselves impact our emotional realities in how we respond to the world.

Whatever story Ahab was telling himself was pretty big, since he was SICKENED by Naboth’s refusal to sell. Now, I think Naboth’s refusal makes a lot of sense. We need much more information to understand it. His land WAS his ancestral inheritance, which in theory at least could not be sold, and tearing down a vineyard to make a vegetable garden was pretty insulting. As one scholar points out, “The same Hebrew phrase ‘vegetable garden’ occurs in Deuteronomy 11:10 to describe Egypt in contrast to the promised land.”2 Furthermore, vineyards took many years of labor to make profitable. They were serious investments. He was under no obligation to sell to the King, and he had no reason to want to. So he said no.

Ahab couldn’t handle the no. I’m still curious if the land purchase was just a passing fancy, but being told no utterly enraged him. They stories may not have been as important as being denied something he vaguely wanted. It may be that when he was told no, he started telling himself some other stories! Perhaps stories that said being told no was a lack of respect. Perhaps stories that being told no meant he was wrong to have asked. Perhaps stories that said that important people weren’t told no. Perhaps he was shamed by Naboth mentioning the “ancestral inheritance” and some part of him told him he was a bad person for wanting the land at all. Perhaps the story suggested that he wasn’t a good man if he couldn’t convince someone to do things his way.

I don’t know what stories he told himself, but the text seems to indicate that the stories were pretty potent. They sickened him. Then comes Jezebel. Now, Jezebel makes me squirmy, because she is ultimate anti-heroine, and I don’t like it when evilness is associated with women. This isn’t just a vague woman thing about not wanting to be associated with evilness, this is because we are associated with evil way too often and in ways that do harm to humanity. Yet, no fairy tale nor Disney movie has ever been able to make a character as utterly evil as Jezebel. I’m not even sure Lady Macbeth is as bad, and if she is, I suspect it is because Shakespeare modeled her in part on Jezebel.

Worse yet, part of the way Jezebel is so darn evil is because she is such a powerful woman willing to use her power to get what she wants. In this story, what she wants is a false accusation that would lead to a stoning. That is, she wants a murder, and she has the tools to get it. Actually, likely, she got several murders because the accusations that she brought would have gotten both Naboth and his male descendants killed. This she gave to her husband as a gift so he would feel better because he got his stupid garden. She’s the worst, and she’s female, and I can’t fix it.

I’m not sure what to make of the fact that the acquisition of this garden, even through these means, seemed to ACTUALLY sooth Ahab’s spirits. Clearly getting what he had decided he wanted mattered to him more than the means of acquisition. As hearers of the story though, we might hope that it wouldn’t end there. We don’t want the anti-hero and the anti-heroine to win in the end. It almost seems for a moment that they have. They got away with murder. They got the land he was seeking. He’s the king, and he has all the power and all the privilege, and it has just been proven that saying “no” to the king is a a death sentence.

When he gets to the land, God’s prophet was there. The prophet’s role was usually to tell the king when the king had acted unjustly. Therefore, the-king-who-was-the-worst-in-history-to-that-point responded to the-prophet-who-kept-having-to-tell-him-he-had-messed-up-again with “Have you found me, O my enemy?” Did I mention that my take on Ahab is that he wasn’t particularly self-aware, nor good at differentiating reality from the stories he tells himself? A good leader might see the person who most often whistle-blows their work and think “Ut oh. I must have messed up again!” A great leader would see the same person and say, “I wonder what I can learn now.” A poor leader would simply think, “I’m in trouble now.” Ahab was terrible. He actually saw the person whose job it was to call for God’s justice AS HIS ENEMY. Talk about stories we tell ourselves!!

Of course, I really hate what Elijah said to Ahab. It doesn’t sound like God’s justice to me at all. It sounds like a threat and a punishment. This is one of those cases where I choose to believe that the people who wrote and edited the story were more interested in good story telling than they were in considering what they were implying about God. The story will go on to tell a gory and miserable account of Ahab’s death. Likely some people thought it was fitting after the life he had led. As the story was told through the ages, that sentiment became a part of the story itself. I think that reflects a human longing for justice and a world that makes sense.

In life these characters reflect all of us at times. Sometimes we are irrationally obsessed with the acquisition of something, like Ahab, and we can’t even figure out why we care so much. Sometimes we are going about our normal life when someone else’s whims end up ruining everything (EVERYTHING) like Naboth. Sometimes our desire to make someone we love feel better motivates us to do great harm to someone else, like Jezebel (although almost always to a lesser degree). Sometimes we are the voices of justice who have to call for accountability, like Elijah.

But, truth be told, while each of these aspects of life are real in each of our lives, they aren’t all proportioned equally. Some people have more power, like Ahab and Jezebel. Some have significantly less power and are more vulnerable to injustice and the whims of others, like Naboth. Some of have more privilege, and many have less. Our various levels of privileges intersect in multiple ways.

Yet, we can rest assured that God still works and moves in the world toward justice, and calls us to account for the ways power is used. Injustice is still a reality in the world, but God is never at peace with that. Thanks be to God. May we learn to be speakers of truths, and to call for justice like Elijah (although maybe we can do it with few less threats!) Amen

1Carolyn J. Sharp “Theological Perspective on 1 Kings 21:1-10 (11-14), 15-21a”, p. 122 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).

2Marsha M Wilfong “Exegetical Perspective on 1 Kings 21:1-10 (11-14), 15-21a” , p. 125 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 12, 2016

Sermons

“Mother’s Only Son” based on  1 Kings 17:8-24 and Luke…

  • June 5, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

Two groups of people, each with their own purposes, happen upon each other outside of a small village. This scene could go a lot of ways! The one it takes is probably not the most expected. Both groups are in motion. The grieving widow and her crowd are a funeral procession from her village. Jesus and his disciples (also a large group) are in transition from place to place.

The widow in Nain doesn’t approach Jesus. Unlike so many other gospel narratives, Jesus isn’t responding to anyone else’s request. Instead, it was simply compassion that moved him to act.  He sees her. It is likely that her son was her means of economic survival. As a widow, she’d lost her husband already, so her son was her only family. Furthermore, “the death of an only son would leave a widow without an heir and therefore unable to retain whatever means remained for her. Without an heir, all personal property reverted to her husband’s family after his death.”1 This meant she was both grieving as a parent grieves the loss of their child, but there was also an added complication of desperation.

Jesus is said to “see her” and “have compassion for her.” The word for compassion means “an intense inner emotion and sympathy that accompanies mercy. Luke uses the word in two later stories, when the Samaritan sees the stripped and beaten man (10:33), and when the prodigal father sees his lost son for the first time far down the road (15:20). … For Luke, compassion, while entailing great emotional capacity, also leads to action.”2This is a BIG deal. The gospels were written during the Roman Empire, with Greek influence everywhere. “For readers situated in a Hellenistic and Roman culture in which being moved by another was a sign of weakness, here (as in 10:330 and 15:20) that supposed ‘weakness’ is associated with Jesus, and through him, God. Compassion and mercy are the apex of God’s character and of the new communal life in the Spirit.”3

That is, this is a story of Jesus being compassionate, and moved by the suffering of others. It is a story of Jesus’ compassion in the midst of a cultural context that would have seen it as weakness. Yet, Jesus is an active agent in this story. His compassion is his motivation. He sees the grieving widow, and he is moved to help her.

Interestingly, in our stories today, the dead/dying sons are sort of objects. Their mothers, and the prophets of God, are the subjects.  I think we should always be concerned about the ways we tell stories, and how stories can dehumanize people into objects. Yet, I find it surprising WHO becomes an object and who doesn’t in these stories.

That is, the impoverished, widows with one (dead/dying) son are the subjects. This is a surprise because we aren’t supposed to notice them in society, unless God is turning things upside down. Both of our stories today are of God turning things upside down. Likely the two stories are intentionally similar, intended to reflect light back and forth between themselves.

Luke has Jesus touch the bier. This touch would have made him ritualistically unclean. Elijah doesn’t touch that mother’s son, but he has to stretch his body over the boy’s body three times and pray out loud. Jesus is being presented not only as prophet but as an especially strong one. Jesus is being presented as caring about the widow, even though he doesn’t know her. Elijah has to be shamed into action. Jesus, in Luke, continually cares for widows, orphans, and strangers. This is particularly notable, since in the Torah, God is pretty obsessed with how widows, orphans, and strangers are treated. The prophets tended to end up having to tell the Kings that they were mistreating God’s widows, orphans, and strangers. In this story, Luke is establishing Jesus as a prophet, and reminding us that prophets express God’s compassion, especially for widows, orphans, and strangers.

Throughout Biblical history, “Widows, orphans, and strangers had this in common: they did not count on the protection offered by a citizen adult male in their family.”4 In the two stories we have, we don’t know the names of the mothers or the sons. That is “something common in biblical narratives, yet another sign of injustice. Women and children were, more often than not, referred to as the wife or child of male adults, in those days the only ones with any power in social and religious life.”5 Yet, these unnamed mothers are the subjects of their stories.

In the beginning of 1 Kings 17, Elijah begins a take down of the Canaanite god Baal, who is the god that the Israelite King’s wife worships. The Israelite King at that point was Ahab. He was officially declared one of the worst. His wife was Jezebel. She was hands down the worst. In the 3 chapter cycle in 1 Kings between Elijah as God’s prophet and the followers and prophets of Baal, there are a series of contests between “the G/gods.” It may be helpful to think of these stories as … oh, what’s that called? Those contests where two men compete to see who can pee farther, higher, and longer? Whatever that is, that’s what YHWH and Baal are presented as doing in these 3 chapters.

Since the Canaanite god Baal was known as a god responsible for the rain, YHWH creates a drought. In the beginning of chapter 17, YHWH’s prophet Elijah declared to the King Ahab that there would be a long drought until YHWH called it off. This was to prove that Baal was … ineffective. Then the story turns to show how YHWH provided for Elijah during this terrible drought. That helps YHWH appear… effective.

At first, Elijah is sent to a ravine to drink water from the stream and be fed by ravens YHWH would send along. Then the water dried up in stream because of the drought. This is the point when our story today begins. Next, Elijah is sent to Sidon, the home village of Queen Jezebel, right in the heart of Baal worshipping. He is sent to Sidon and is told he’ll be fed by a widow. This should have raised some red flags for him.

As one scholar put it, “We don’t know that he would have been optimistic about a widow feeding him. In the best of times, most widows lived a very tenuous existence. In a time of drought, their need would have been even more pronounced.”6 It would likely not have raised his hopes when the widow he met was out gathering sticks, a sign of her profound poverty.

I think Elijah sounds pretty awful in this story. He is demanding things from a woman he never met, and he isn’t even polite about it. “Bring me a little water in a vessel, so that I may drink.” Makes me want to say, “excuse me??” Then he follows up with “Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.” I’d be likely to respond, “Dude. Why do you think I’m your servant?”

However, I’m not sure that’s the actual point of the story! In fact, I’ve been reminded recently that women have so few words attributed to the in the Bible that I should pay attention to what they say rather than get upset at what is said to and about them. The widow replies to Elijah, and says, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.” She claims her own voice. She doesn’t actually seem upset at his request. She’s past that. She just lets him know how desperate she is, and that she can’t care for him too.

After Elijah convinces her to try it anyway, and they are all blessed with a miracle of abundance, her son becomes deathly ill.  She is afraid that Elijah’s presence has brought YHWH’s attention to her and that YHWH is thus punishing her. She speaks again (this is a big deal) this time starting the conversation instead of responding to Elijah. “What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance, and to cause the death of my son!” Her words motivate/shame Elijah, and Elijah heals her son. She also gets the last words in this story, saying to Elijah after the many days of food was provided and her son was brought back from the brink of death, “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of theLord in your mouth is truth.” The unnamed widow gets a lot of voice.

The capacity to heal is associated in many parts of the Bible with a connection to the Divine. But it is only in the Luke story that the motivate to heal comes from the compassion of Jesus reflecting the compassion of God.

Like many of you, I struggle with most parts of these stories if I try to take them as factual accounts of historical events. So, I don’t. I do take them as stories meant to convey deep truths, often on multiple levels at the same time. I find myself wondering who the widows, orphans, and strangers are today. Clearly, actually, widows, orphans, and immigrants/refugees ARE still vulnerable populations in the world. That hasn’t changed.

There are others as well. Because of mass incarceration in the United States, particularly of men of color, there are many families who are vulnerable with both lack of income and lack of family connection. Our society creates functional widows and orphans.

Because of our immigration laws, strangers are at risk, and when deportations happen, families become essentially widows and orphans.

Because of a raw hunger in our world for access to sexual pleasure without mutuality or consent, we live in a world where women and children live in slavery and are trafficked for the pleasure of (usually) men. Women and children moved around the country or the world for this purpose become strangers in a strange land without access to resources. They become widows, orphans, and strangers in multiple ways.

Because of the prevalence of violence in our society, and the unconscionable number of murders, many are left as widows and widowers, orphans, and strangers.

Because of the fears and anxieties that abound, and the lack of adequate mental health care, many in our society are particularly vulnerable to those would would gain profit through addition. Drug use, abuse, and overdoses make people both living widows, orphans, and strangers and actual widows, orphans and strangers.

There are so many ways that our way of life as a society and a world MAKES PEOPLE more vulnerable and puts their livelihoods at risk. Yet, we worship a God of compassion who sees the struggles of those whose hearts and lives are broken, and is moved to change the brokenness. May we continue to learn how to receive God’s gifts of healing in our own lives and how to participate in God’s gifts of healing in the world. Amen

1Verlee A. Copeland “Homeletical Perspective on Luke 7:7-11” , p. 119 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).

2Gregory Anderson Love “Theological Perspective on Luke 7:7-11” , p. 118 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).

3Ibid, 120.

4Carolyn J. Sharp “Pastoral Perspective on 1 Kings 17:8-16 (17-24)” , p. 98 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).

5Ibid, 100.

6H. James Hopkins, “Homiletical Perspective on 1 Kings 17:8-16 (17-24)” , p. 101 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 3” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2010).    

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 5, 2016

Sermons

Untitled

  • May 1, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

I often find myself giggling when Church groups are particularly unaware of the culture around them. Likely, I shouldn’t giggle, as my relationship to popular culture is essentially nonexistent, and I a lot miss more than I get. For instance, did you know that there are radio stations other than NPR? (Why?)

Given that I’m useless at popular culture, when I know something is funny it is likely a problem. One of my favorites was a restructuring proposal for The United Methodist Church in 2012 called “Plan B.” Apparently the mostly people who put it together hadn’t ever heard about emergency contraception, and missed that they were suggesting a church restructure that was named the same thing as what most people call “the morning after pill.” I don’t think that implied good things about their plan, either intentionally or unintentionally. I suspect this related to why much of the world finds church irrelevant.

My other favorite is that the Upper New York Annual Conference’s printed “publication” is called “Advocate.” Now, I know why they call it that. It is because of our Gospel reading today. But I find it amazing that they would choose to do so because, well, the famous paper called “The Advocate” is quite a bit different than the version including a letter from the Bishop and news about new faith communities. In their own words, “The Advocate” is “Gay news – commentary, arts & entertainment, health, parenting, and politics. The Advocate is the leading source for up-to-date and extensive LGBT news.”1

I titled this sermon “The Original Advocate” because I like that the Holy Spirit is called the Advocate in John. Although, to be fair, other translators use “Comforter” and scholars point out that the word also has connotations of “friend.” Nevertheless, I really like “Advocate” and the idea that God advocates for us and for justice in the world. The idea that the Holy Spirit serves as teacher and “reminder” for us in the midst of the confusion and disorientation life is truly comforting to me. God works with us, which means that full responsibility for the wellbeing of the world does not lie on any of us alone – and that is good news.

Truth be told, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for this passage. The first time I remember doing “real” Bible Study was at camp the summer after my freshman year of high school. Before that, both at camp and in Sunday School, we’d done … well, I don’t really now what we did, but some combination of story telling, crafts, morality lessons, skits, and chats about God. But that year the directors at camp trusted us to do REAL Bible Study. We read from our actual Bibles. We had resources that helped explain concepts to us that were difficult to deduce on our own. We struggled and debated. We were permitted to really work on the texts themselves. Obviously, I was in love.

The study that summer was about “peace” and this was the culminating passage. We’d learned that peace in the Bible is more than peace in the world – about the idea of shalom and God’s desire for a world where all people have enough. We looked at texts throughout the Bible about peace, and then we got to this passage where Jesus assures the disciples that his peace is with them and cannot be taken away from them. The sense of wonder about being able to struggle with scripture has stayed with me ever since, and it has created a sense of shining joy every time I return to this passage, remembering the delight I had in it when I first met it. (Yes, I’m aware of just how nerdy this is.)

It was a special bonus this week when Matt Berryman, Executive Director of the Reconciling Ministry Network, wrote an article in The Advocate. It was published on Friday and is entitled, “Dear United Methodist Church, Do the Right Thing.” It starts with this, “In just a few weeks, the United Methodist Church will gather in Portland, Ore., for its general conference to determine church policy and practice for the next four years. ‘Who cares?’ you might be asking yourself. Whether you’re religious, spiritual, agnostic, or atheist, here’s why you should.”2 He concludes this thought a few paragraphs later saying,

“Becoming a welcoming, affirming faith would send a message to families of all kinds, to the larger communities where our churches are mainstays and influence the broader public discourse; where Christianity still exerts significant influence and power over people’s lives. And beyond the positive water cooler and kitchen table conversations, a reversal of the UMC’s discriminatory policy would begin to dismantle the widely held view that institutional religion is the biggest obstacle to our equality.”3

He’s right. Those are a good assessment of why what happens in Portland starting next week matters. Unfortunately, the right thing isn’t going to happen.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to attend a training on Nonviolent Direct Actions, hosted by MIND (Methodists In New Directions). They are the Reconciling group in the New York Annual Conference, and this training was part of their preparation for General Conference. I was lucky enough to be invited and have it be on my way home! The trainer and participants were well aware that there are not enough votes to change the direction of The United Methodist Church – this time. (Frankly, so is Matt Berryman, it is just his job to push anyway.) The goals right now are to heighten tensions, create crises, and force leaders into decision dilemmas. Only by continuing to apply pressure to the church and grow the anxiety within it is there the opportunity to create change over the long run. We have to play a long game, and we need people willing to take some risk.

That is, things may not be overly “polite.” I spent time this week with a three year old whose parents are consistently teaching her to be polite. Her parents are my friends. She’s a sweet child, and she’s learning all the rules well. I’ve been wondering about it all though. Politeness is very important to know, and to practice. That is, until it isn’t.

Being polite is generally a good way to communicate respect to other people, and acknowledge their humanity. In that way it is a VERY good thing. However, in our society (like most others I think) politeness can become a constraint that limits the work of justice. It is not considered polite interrupt people, but in the midst of humor that is racist, the interruption is the lesser of two evils. It is impolite to talk with one’s mouth full, but if there is a danger that needs to be articulated, it is the lesser of two evils to do so anyway. This list of examples could be rather extensive, as polite is not as important as safe and just.

Some of the work that will be done at General Conference isn’t going to seem polite! The United Methodist Church currently functions as an oppressor of people who are lesbian, gay and bisexual, and the work of justice trumps the value of politeness. The trainer yesterday pointed out that direct actions happen when you are not seeking someone else to give you power – doing it yourself. She explained this as the difference between the people who petitions for the Confederate flag to be removed from the South Carolina statehouse and the woman who climbed up the pole and took it down.4 It is not considered POLITE to claim authority for yourself, to ignore the hierarchy and those who claim an institution’s power much less to disrespect their authority and wishes by doing exactly what they don’t like. Most of the time, that’s a good enough reason not to do something. The exception is when greater harm is done by being polite!

I’m glad my friend’s daughter knows how to say “please” and “thank you.” It will serve her well in life, and those she interacts with will feel acknowledged and respected by her words. However, I hope that when it is necessary she will stand up for herself (and others) however she has to – whether it is polite or not!

The Revelation passage that was read today is one person’s dream of what God’s reign might look like. There is a lot there, and I’m going to resist my urge to unpack all of it. Instead I want to focus on two things.

The first is that the gates are always open. The imagined city is insanely large (1500 miles cubed, think about THAT for a while), and it HAS gates (12 of them), but they are always open. They are ALWAYS OPEN. Anyone can come in at any time. Anyone can leave at any time. There is an implication that there are people who don’t live in the city, so this isn’t merely a redundancy. Anyone who wants to be in the presence of God can be. Anyone who wants to be “in” can be. Furthermore, anyone who wants to leave, can. The gates are open both ways, so no one is forced into a relationship they aren’t wanting.

Permanently opened gates. Everyone can come in, at all times. That’s quite the image, isn’t it?

The second piece of focus relates to the first, in the permanence of it all. The whole city is set up as if it will be forever, and that dream fits the experience of the people who just watched their Temple and city be destroyed AGAIN. They yearn for the un-destroyable. They yearn to be free of the oppression of an empire.

The problem for us here today is that we are citizens of today’s most powerful empire. Peter Storey, a Methodist Bishop of South Africa, once wrote,

“I have often suggested to American Christians that the only way to understand their mission is to ask what it might have meant to witness faithfully to Jesus in the heart of the Roman Empire… America’s preachers have a task more difficult, perhaps than those faced by us under South Africa’s apartheid, or by Christians under Communism. We had obvious evils to engage… You have to expose and confront the great disconnect between the kindness, compassion, and caring of most American people and the ruthless way American power is experienced, directly and indirectly, by the poor of the earth. You have to help good people see how they have let their institutions do their sinning for them”.5

This is, sadly, true of both our country and our church. May the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, guide us to see our actions clearly and to be brave enough NOT to be polite when God and justice call for it. May the way of God’s shalom/peace be our way.

Amen


—–

1 If you Google “The Advocate” this is the mini description below it as of April 30, 2016. Aren’t you glad I footnoted that?

2 Matt Berrymore “Dear United Methodist Church, Do the Right Thing” published April 29, 2016http://www.advocate.com/commentary/2016/4/29/dear-united-methodist-church-do-right-thingaccessed April 30, 2016.

3 Ibid

4 https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-nation/wp/2015/06/27/woman-takes-down-confederate-flag-in-front-of-south-carolina-statehouse/

5 Quoted by Joyce Hollyday in “Homiletical Perspective on Revelation 10; 21:22-22:5” found on page 491 of “Feasting on the Word Year C Volume 2” edited by Barbara Brown Taylor and David Bartlett (Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville Kentucky, 2009). Worse yet, she was quoting someone else quoting him.

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

May 1, 2016

Sermons

Untitled

  • April 17, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

I’m cheating. The Acts reading is supposed to be the reading today according to the Revised Common Lectionary whose advice I tend to follow most of the time. The Mark reading is not. It simply made sense to me that we should look at these two stories together. In truth, the nerdiest option would have been to use Luke 8:40-56 as the gospel reading, because then we’d be dealing with two versions of a story from the SAME AUTHOR, but Luke edits out Mark’s verbatim, “Talitha, cum” and I wanted to include it, so I let story telling take precedence this week.  So I’m cheating on the Lectionary AND on my inner nerd for the sake of this sermon.

In Acts Peter uses the woman’s name. Tabitha, which means gazelle, to say “Tabitha, get up.” In Mark, Jesus says “Talitha, cum” and texts tells us that it means, “Little girl, get up.” The characters are not the same. Tabitha in Acts is a faithful disciple, a follower of the way, well known and well loved for her generosity and kindness. The sweet little detail about her death – that as the people gathered around to grieve, they showed each other the articles of clothing that she had made them – seems to bring the story across time. Those who make handmade clothing still often have that impact on others. (ah hem. Needlework ministry.)

Talitha is not a name. We don’t know the name of the 12 year old girl in Mark. She’s the daughter of a local religious leader, and that’s all we know. In fact, her story is told around the edges of the story of the hemorrhaging woman. The woman had been bleeding for 12 years. The girl had been alive for 12 years. 12 isn’t usually a random number in Scripture, it tends to refer to Israel as a whole. Perhaps the suggestion here is that Jesus was healing all of Israel.

So, the people who are healed are not the same. Tabitha is a grown woman, the little girl is not. Yet, Tabitha and talitha, sound really similar. This leaves us with two options. One is that there is one story remembered in two variations. The other is that they’re told in similar ways in order to make a particular point. In that case, the point is that Peter was presented as being like Jesus. The power that Jesus had possess to heal, even to call someone back from (the brink of) death, now resided in Peter. That’s the story of resurrection – that the Body of Christ which was once limited to Jesus himself now becomes the shared reality of the disciples of Christ. The powers that Jesus once held are now shared among his followers. If the stories are intentionally similar, it is to make just that point. If not, it is worth wondering why this story so pervaded the collective consciousness of the early Christian movement to be remembered in multiple ways.

Now, as the three people who are healed in these two stories are all women, it is a excellent reminder that Jesus (and the early church) cared enough about women to spend time healing them. Unfortunately, to have integrity with these passages requires more than just pointing out that women matter too or that Peter was able to act as a healer as Jesus had acted as a healer. To have integrity requires acknowledging that while these stories made sense in a first century context, they’re quite challenging to faith today, especially faith that does not wish to ignore the gift of scientific knowledge.

Within the first century context in which they were written, it wasn’t so hard. Contemporary medicine was quite un-advanced and both sickness and healing were best understood as demons entering and leaving the body. So, faith healing was as good of an explanation as anything, and to associate Jesus/Peter with raising women assumed dead wasn’t particularly extraordinary, though it was certainly an affirmation of them.

We don’t exist in the same worldview anymore, and I don’t think we’re supposed to. We don’t associate illness with demons. We don’t associate healing with exorcisms. And, I suspect that if we take these stories seriously enough, we can start to get squirmy. They don’t make sense, and yet there are a LOT of healing stories in the Gospels and beyond. What are we to do with stories that present Jesus as having healing superpowers?

Taking the Bible seriously means we have to struggle with healing stories that don’t make a lot of sense to us as 21st century Christians. So, what are our options?

  1. Obviously, we could simply throw the stories out as fiction, and ignore them. This would fit if we think of the miraculous healings as simply being included so that people would take Jesus seriously as a teacher.
  2. My seminary professors believed that the Gospels were written in the context of the Roman Empire, and were therefore intentionally designed to present Jesus as “better than” the various gods and goddesses of the Greco-Roman tradition. Thus, in any given miracle story, they’d find a similar story from Greek or Roman God and point out that the Jesus version was BETTER. Then the miracles and healings are a form of bragging about how great Jesus was, and are designed to bring people to the faith.
  3. Just to be contrary, we COULD take the stories as factual truths. That would likely lead us to assuming that Jesus was categorically different than any other human who walked the face of the earth, and fits very well within the idea that Jesus was God-incarnate. God’s power existed in his human form and was able to bring healing wherever God/Jesus choose. This leads us down a very dangerous path though, because if God is able to step in and heal anyone at any time, and simply chooses not to, then God is responsible for much of the suffering in the world.
  4. My dear friend the Rev. Dr. Barbara Thorington Green suggests another alternative. She believes that Jesus loved people with the love that God has for them. She believes that love – true, pure, unadulterated, unconditional love – is healing to bodies and spirits. She thinks that when Jesus looked someone in the eye or touched them while being connected to the depth of God’s love for them, they were profoundly changed, and often healed. More and more it seems that science shows us how connected our bodies and spirits really are… our stress impacts our heartrates, our sadness lowers our immune systems, our joy helps our digestion. It makes sense that experiencing deep pure love could provide healing to people. It doesn’t quite make sense out of raising people from death or comas, but it sure gets us closer. (And, of course, in this case it presumes that that love was then passed to Peter and therefore to us.)
  5. I think there is one more option (beyond the option to take each of these with some seriousness and bounce between them as we see fit). I think there is an option to see the stories PRIMARILY as metaphor. Or, as John Dominic Crossan likes to say, “there are parables ABOUT Jesus” in addition to the “parables of Jesus.” The healing stories can be mined for their meaning without assuming that they happened as they’re said to happen. That is, think about the parable of the Good Samaritan. Did it happen? Well, probably not. There is no reason whatsoever to think that Jesus was telling a story that ACTUALLY happened, but it doesn’t matter in the least IF it happened, because the story itself is the point. It is possible to consider the healing narratives in the same way.

While leaving you the freedom to choose whichever of the options you like most today, I am going to focus on the last one. In the Gospel lesson two healings are woven together into a single narrative. In one case the young girl is restored to life, she had been (presumed) dead. In another case a woman was restored to life, she had been impoverished and weakened for 12 years, and connecting to Jesus restored her to full life. The two stories interweave, suggesting that the fullness of life restored is as valuable as life restored. Perhaps they suggest that Jesus offers a new way of life and fuller, more abundant form of life. Likely, because they are intersecting and because the both use the number 12, the indication is that the healing of God is both individual and communal.

In any life there are places of brokenness and hurt in need of healing. In most lives there are pieces of ourselves that are presumed dead – or have simply been bleeding for so long that it is unimaginable that they will ever stop. Yet, this story suggests that God’s creative life-force energy is not stopped in the places we presume it will end. Jesus called the young girl back to life. God calls us to a fuller and more whole life, including by healing the places within us that we’ve assumed are unhealable or dead.

I may be more aware of the places that we assume are dead communally than individually. While we believe in a God who calls forth life, and life abundant, taking a look at the world can be deeply troubling. Can God really heal racism when it is so entrenched? What about sexism and heterosexism? Can God really heal the multi-generational brokenness of communities? Is peace truly possible? What about justice? Economic inequality is at its all time peak today, and yet with the powers of the military and the threat of nuclear war, is it truly possible to think that it it can be peaceably rebalanced? More simply, given that corporations are now legally, “people” is campaign finance reform truly feasible? What will it take for people to stop making stupid laws about who can pee in what bathroom and instead focus on providing quality education and health care to all people? More locally, what sort of trust do we have that New York State will ever fully fund it’s own legal obligations to school districts – particularly urban districts with mainly students of color – and give students a fair chance in life? That is, what would it take for society to see that all of God’s people are are deeply and infinitely valuable? Can God really do all that? The stories, and our faith, tell us that God is loving, creative, powerful, and at work in the world in individual AND communal healing.

The continuation of the story in Acts, with Peter, suggests that we have powers of healing as well! The community of faith is able to be a source of healing in the world, and I have certainly known it to be so. I was a quiet and awkward child, but my church loved me as I was and saw potential in me. I was scared and self-conscious high school graduate, but church camp had a place to receive my gifts. When I came here, to this church, I was still aching from the loss of my beloved Annual Conference, and I was afraid that the gifts I had weren’t wanted in The United Methodist Church. Communal healing has also been visible in my life. The power of being loved by a community changes lives. That is, throughout my life, God has been a source of healing – individual and communal – and God’s people have been a source of healing – individual and communal.

Love really does heal. Thanks be to God. Amen

Sermon Talk Back Questions

Where have you seen God at work in healing in your own life?

Where have you seen God at work healing in our communities?

Which ones of the 5 options do you find useful in your life today?

Has that changed over the course of your lifetime?

Are there other options that you use that I’ve missed?

What do YOU make of these two similar stories?

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

April 17, 2016

Sermons

“Displacement”based on Acts 9:1-20 and John 21:1-19

  • April 10, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

Before Jesus called them, most of the disciples had been fisherman. It was their occupation. They supported their families by fishing. Likely it was their identity too. They were multi-generational fisherman. They were part of fishing families and fishing communities. (Don’t worry, I don’t intend to make a metaphor out of this.)

I suspect that the story we read from John today comes from different origins than the other Easter stories in John. It got edited in as the third appearance, but it works pretty well as a stand alone story, and it likely was one. Peter is presented as the natural leader. He says he wants to go fishing, and everyone else says they’ll go with him. It makes a lot of sense that fisherman born and bred would return to the Sea in the midst of turmoil when they didn’t know what else to do.

I don’t know enough about fishing the Sea of Tiberias to know if a night’s fishing being utterly unsuccessful was common, but I’m also not entirely sure that the disciples would have spent much of their energy trying to catch fish that night. It seems that the comfort may have been the familiarity of the surroundings and the nighttime freedom to talk or not as they wished. It was a good place to grieve.

Now the bit in the story about casting the nets “to the other side” and having fish essentially leap into them seems like it is set up for allegory, but I’m going to leave those be and simply point out that in that moment Jesus was recognized. In fact, John recognized Jesus, but Peter jumped out of the boat to swim to him. People are different, and have different skills and responses. One can figure out what is going on, another is quick to respond with joy.

I’ve been trying to figure out why Peter would get dressed and THEN jump into the water, when most people would do it the other way. I guessed maybe it was a sign of respect for Jesus, but I looked it up in the Jewish Annotated New Testament and all they had to say was, “It is odd that Peter dresses and then jumps into the sea.”1

The best part of this story happens when they all get to shore. Jesus has made a fire and prepared some fish and bread, although he adds to the fire some of the fish they’d caught. In the Emmaus story, the disciples know Jesus in the breaking of the bread, but in this story they knew him in the abundance he provided of the fish. Yet the way that he shares the food still rings with celebration of communion. “Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.” (v. 13)

This is the first and only meal that it is said Jesus cooks. He makes them breakfast after they’ve been out on the water all night tending their souls.  He provides for them when they need it most. It is an extraordinary little story in that way, Jesus is a bit more domestic than we otherwise see him. Before the resurrection he cared for people’s physical needs on a regular basis, but not as the cook. This is a bit earthier!

The story almost suggests that the disciples were silent through the meal, but we really don’t know. The sweet, strange story of the nets full of fish and breakfast waiting on the shore turns toward Peter giving him both an opportunity for forgiveness and a direction in life. Often this part of the story has gotten my fuller attention. Today I simply want to point out that the three questions seem likely to exist in order to erase the three denials that had earlier occurred. Secondly, the three questions have slightly different nuances, but they’re insignificant. Jesus instructs Peter to tend and feed the sheep and lambs as a response to Peter’s love for Jesus.

The work that had been Jesus’ is now passed on. In this case is is to Peter, but by extension to all of us. That’s the Easter story again, for those who are slow to pick up on it. At the end of this passage is a line I hadn’t really heard before. In the end of the conversation Jesus says to Peter, “Follow me.” I find the Gospel of John annoying at times, but it is also a work of brilliance. In John’s version of the call of the disciples, Jesus doesn’t call Peter! Peter’s brother Andrew started following Jesus and invited Peter to come along. Peter’s call to follow doesn’t happen until this conversation! It also become a call to all who hear – those who weren’t called in the beginning of the story are still called to follow by the end of it. Furthermore, the call to “follow” happens during the LAST vision of Jesus’ resurrection, in John. The following has to happen by the guidance of the Spirit and the capacity of the disciples to trust themselves to know what to do!

It has struck me this week how displacing all of this would have been for the disciples. They’d been displaced by choosing to travel with Jesus and had given up the lives they knew. Then they were displaced by the death of Jesus, and lost the life they’d come to know with him. That’s where we found them at the beginning of the story, trying to find their place again by returning to the lives they knew. Instead, by the end of today’s story all sense a security has been stripped from them. They are to continue the work of Jesus, but without Jesus. They are to upset the system of the Empire, without any promises of safety, and indeed Jesus points out that they too will suffer by tending and feeding the sheep and the lambs. The fishermen and their families from Galilee who wandered the Jewish countryside with Jesus end up settling in Jerusalem and leading the rest of the followers of The Way… lives still changed by the words “Follow me.”

I’m stuck as well that their lives moved from pretty “normal” to very abnormal. They were regular people, working hard to make their lives go as well as they could before they met Jesus. They were productive members of society, making money in one of the standard ways. They were contributing to society.

And then Jesus displaced them.

Just as Jesus didn’t work for money during his ministry, as far as I can tell, the apostles didn’t work for money again after his resurrection. They were so busy leading The Way, that they couldn’t. Other people’s offerings supported their lives.

Which is to say they “stopped” contributing to society. They were no longer productive workers. Isn’t that funny? The Protestant Work Ethic is a real thing, and in the USA many of us were practically suckled on it. Yet the followers of Jesus stepped out of the system of productivity in order to redistribute resources and teach another way. It is as if their lives were the Sabbath of the Hebrew Bible, a reminder that life is more than productivity and contributions to society, that we are made in the image of God, and we are whole already as we are. They began to live Sabbath – to focus on relationships and not on work. That’s some serious displacement.

There are rather amazing parallels between today’s Gospel lesson and the story of the conversion of Saul. For the first time, I noticed that the conversion wasn’t REALLY instantaneous, as I’ve often heard people describe it. Yes, he had an instant where he fell, and he became blind, and he had a conversation with Jesus (who was dead.) But he had the scales on his eyes for 3 days, while fasting, before Ananias comes to talk with him and they fall off. At that point he got baptized, but he was with the disciples for “several days” after that and THEN he began to preach about Jesus saying, “He is the Son of God.” (Which, just in case you didn’t know, was blaspheming the Emperor of the Roman Empire who claimed that particular title as one piece of his authority.)

Saul’s displacement happened in about a week. He thought he knew what his contribution to society was. In addition to making his living as a tent-maker (which he continued to do), his passion was caring for the faith by making sure that heresies and bad teaching didn’t take seed in the faith that formed his life. He was convinced that the followers of Jesus’ way were the problem, and he was willing to use his life to fix it – until this happened. Then he took his passion and conviction and used to FOR the good of The Way of Jesus.

Have you ever seen that video of a random person dancing to the beat of their own drum in random places? It ends up making the point that one person dancing is one person dancing! However, the moment a second person chooses to join in, the first time a follower joins in, it usually becomes a dance party. Sometimes it is one person who dances, sometimes it is hundreds, but the difference is not the first dancer – it is the second.

It is possible that Paul is the “second dancer” of The Way of Jesus. Jesus was the first dancer. He is the one who offered a new take on life and way to deny the powers of the world by focusing on the creative love of God. But Paul is the one who, by following, brought people along. I think the rest of the disciples would have continued to share the message and it would have mattered but only within Judaism. Paul was the one who took the message to the Gentiles, which is super ironic since he was the one who cared most about the faith of Judaism to begin with. He is also the one who pushes for full inclusion of Gentiles in The Way, without conversion to Judaism. Jesus may have founded a movement, but Paul made it popular.

Paul’s displacement pulled out of everything he cared about, including his own life, but gave him a way to change the history of the world. He did continue to make a living for himself, but his real contributions were in sharing a story he’d once found offensive enough to stop by any violent means necessary.

In seminary, as in much of Christianity, there was often a focus on stories of conversion. People talked about the rough lives they’d led, and when they’d connected with God anew, and how that had guided them to ministry. At times I’d get annoyed with the stories, but often I felt insufficient by not having a story of my own. I was raised in United Methodist Church that I loved, I went to church camp, I adored it, at 13 I first considered becoming a pastor, and I’d followed that path from that point on.

In class one day we were assigned to discuss something about conversion in a small group and my friend Andre, who had one of those“standard’ conversion stories offered me a great gift. He asked if I had been “converted” and I said no, and I think I hung my head in shame. We weren’t particularly close, but I think he’d listened to me very deeply to that point. He asked if there was a point in my life when I realized that although my life was good, not everyone else had it as easy. I looked up and said YES, and started telling the story of the first time I’d noticed. He smiled at me and said that I was one of the people with an inverted conversion story. My conversion was realizing how broken the world was and being moved to participate in healing it. Put another way, becoming aware of my privileges and that they weren’t shared was a form of conversion. That is a story that I’ve lived time and time again.

It has been displacement for me at times too. As it was for Peter, and for Paul, and as it has been for people who didn’t have a connection to the Divine and later found one. God messes things up. God displaces us so that we can be placed appropriately. And frankly, God seems to do it often. So the next time you are trying to contribute to the world and it all gets turned upside down, remember that God may be displacing you – for the sake of good. Amen

—

1 The Jewish Annotated New Testament: New Revised Standard Version Bible Translation, edited by Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011).

Rev. Sara E. Baron

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

April 10, 2016

Sermons

“Chosen from Many” Jeremiah 1:4-10 and Luke 4:21-30

  • January 31, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

Last weekend the Al-Hidaya Islamic Community Center of Troy and Latham had an open house in their new facility in Latham. It is beautiful space. They’ve been thoughtful about everything. The intersections of ancient symbolism and modern convenience were pretty astounding. In the large gathering space that serves as an entrance to the worship space there are 5 pillars holding up the ceiling to represent the 5 pillars of Islam. There are archways with circles and half circles showing the phases of the moon. The doorways into the worship space are intricately designed with 99 distinct wooden pieces, a reminder of the 99 names of Allah in the Qur’an. Because people enter the holy space without their shoes on, the heat radiates from the floor. There is one of those cool water fountains that exists only to refill reusable water bottles and a nifty machine for making donations to the facility with your credit or debit card.

While at the open house a friend and I were approached by two young women willing to answer any questions we had. So, we asked! Somehow we ended up with the undivided attention of 6 young women, I believe they were all between 16 and 22. I asked them who among them wore the hijab every day, and half of them did. So I asked them why and why not.

Their answers struck me as being remarkably similar to the language of “call” that gets used as part of the ordination process that I know. They spoke about wanting to be visible as representatives of their faith and of reminding themselves and others God’s desire for human kindness. They discussed with each other the issue between wanting to be “good enough Muslim” before wearing the hijab, and wearing it without feeling like their faith was enough but as a process of becoming a more faithful person. They spoke about fitting in – or not – and about norms of behavior in their families. They talked about how their families felt about their choices, and yet how certain they were that the decision was between them and God. They were thoughtful and articulate and incredibly committed to their faith.

Through it all, I was struck by how similar their language was to how I’ve heard clergy speak in Christianity. As I’ve experienced it, the “culture of call” suggests that God particularly picks out people to be clergy and lets them know – usually through a mystical experience, sometimes through the affirmations of others. The call is then assessed through multiple levels of church structure. It is assessed first for a sense of validity and then to see if the “call” lines up with a person’s gifts and graces. At every stage of the process toward ordination there is a conversation about call.

In addition to those young women who got me re-obsessed with call, there are the scriptures this week. The passage from Jeremiah is Jeremiah’s call story. The passage from Luke is Jesus claiming his call, and has Jesus talking about others who were particularly chosen for tasks from God. It seems that the church is justified in its assumptions about call, as they’re well established in the Bible. If God wants a person do to work, God calls that person… or at least that’s how it works in the church… or at least that’s the way the culture of call talks about it.

Having had enough time to move past my naivete with call, here are my concerns about how I’ve heard the church talk about call, particularly with regard to ordination:

  1. It assumes that God has a “plan” for each of us. Or perhaps, only the clergy ;). But I don’t really believe God has a plan, or at least not a stagnant one. We change as we go through life and God adapts to where we are. I don’t believe that God sets us on one particular path in expectation that 30 years later we’ll land somewhere particular. Rather, I suspect that God looks at us where we are and notes where our gifts and skills might be of use, and nudges us towards those places if we listen.
  2. It elevates clergy as somehow “above” laity. To be particular, it suggests that the highest form of faithfulness to God is to become clergy. No experience I’ve had supports this. The church exists because of the faithfulness and commitment of the laity.
  3. It suggests that God cares more about clergy than any other means of building up the kin-dom of God. That is, we usually only talk about call when we are talking about church work. There are A LOT of jobs that need to be done in order to bring in the kin-dom. This whole Jesus-following thing would be useless if all anyone ever did was preach and run churches. If there is such a thing as call it must apply as much to teaching fields, medical fields, administration, sanitation, art, music, caregiving, legislation, supportive work, retail, etc.! The world and the world’s needs are incredibly diverse. God’s work with all people may be to help us find the ways that we can build the kin-dom, but it doesn’t seem reasonable that this happens differently for clergy.
  4. It all sorts of mucks up the difference between God and church. If serving God is about being ordained by the church, that’s a disaster. As amazing as this church is, I’ve always found that when I conflate God and the church I get annoyed with God. Churches are imperfect, struggling, and often beautiful organizations trying to work together to build the kin-dom. But they’re fallible, and they are institutions. Clergy are functionally CEOs of non-profits. God is much bigger and better than that. And, just as a reminder, I suspect that if God does “call” people, the vast majority of those called are called to work outside of churches.
  5. It assumes that God has a “will,” a defined preference for how things go, and our goal is to “discern” it and then “obey” it. This is probably the biggest issue I have with call language. Earlier in my life I believed this, and I’ve struggled to find my way out of it. (#ThanksChrysalis #Sarcastic) These days because I believe that God is present in all places and with all people I believe that God is WITH all of us. Then, the way to access Divine Wisdom is through bodies. Sometimes I access Divine Wisdom through myself (body, mind, and emotions) sometimes through others. If I want to find the “right” or “best” way to act, I need to get quiet enough to listen to my inner wisdom, and trust that God is working in me. This is harder, I think, than it was to externalize the divine. Yet, when I trust that God is at work WITH and IN us as humans, the I’m able to take us more seriously.  When the goal was to conform to an external will, then what I cared about was irrelevant. When the goal is to listen to the deepest whispers in myself and remember they are the intersections of God and myself, I become relevant – and you do too.

Now, to be honest, I have a “call story” and I think it is pretty good! It seems only fair to tell you the story that I told hundreds of times on the way to ordination so you can judge it for yourself. It may be shocking, but it was at Sky Lake. I was 13 years old, I had just finished 8th grade, and I was at music camp. I feel the need to tell you, as I’ve told many others, that I didn’t realize when I went to music camp that EVERYONE was supposed to sing. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have gone. (I’ve done music camp 7 times.) The first night of camp we sat by the lakeshore and the director led a footwashing service. She talked about how Jesus was a different kind of leader than any other leader in history. She talked about how usually important people get served, and how Jesus was the important person who served others. I wanted to be a part of THAT. I wanted to turn the world upside down and redefine what “important” and “leader” meant too. Both the director and the woman she’d invited to wash feet with her were clergy. I therefore assumed, without having language for it, that foot-washing was a sacrament and you had to be ordained to do it.

That’s the point where I’ve traditionally made a joke about God “using my ignorance against me.” Anyway, I had this really intense internal conversation about wanting to be a part of the Jesus foot-washing thing, and not wanting to give up my dreams of being a scientist like my mother and owning my own house. That was the first time it occurred to me that I might want to be clergy.

Well, music camp sang at the ordination service of Annual Conference in those days, so nearly a year later I was present when the Bishop did an altar call at the end of the ordination service inviting people forward to respond to the call to ordained ministry. I felt a strong almost magnetic pull toward that altar, and I remembered that night by the lakeshore, but I wasn’t an impulsive sort of teenager. I decided that I’d wait another year, think about things, come back to Annual Conference, and if I still felt that pull, I’d respond THEN.

I talked to my pastor – but only about my desire to go to Annual Conference, and we set it up. The following year at the ordination service I sat with my friends and felt a magnetic pull to the altar. I was crying, and trying to hide it. The hymns were listed in the order of worship, and I knew when the last one ended. I said to myself (or maybe to God… I’ve usually told this story as if I was talking to God), “Oh well, too late, maybe next year.” Bishop Susan Morrison said, “Its not too late.”

So, I responded, making public and visible the experience I’d had of wanting to be a part of the turning the world upside down Jesus movement, one that I’d been privately contemplating for nearly 2 years. At that point I was sure, and I defined my life based on my experience of call. Sometimes I’ve told the addendum. 8 years after that first lakeside foot washing experience I was back at music camp as a pretty senior staff member at Sky Lake. The same clergy women were there. The director was sick that summer, and after she’d washed feet for a while she asked me to help her stand so she could take a break.

Then she asked me to take her place. I was the only staff member invited to wash feet, and it was the first time music camp had done a footwashing in the intervening years. By that point I was ready to apply to seminary. I loved washing feet in that service, I love it every time I get to do it. As wonderful as that experience was though, I knew in those moments that the call which had started as a desire to wash feet and ordination had been a means to an end had become a desire to serve God as a clergy person. Oh, and the director – she had NO idea that my call to ministry had been set in place in the last footwashing service. She just needed a break.

It’s a good story, right? I suspect if you’d spent years perfecting it, many of you could tell one just as good about your profession.

I have wondered if the idea of call comes out of a deep human need to be special. One of my college professors once pointed out that all fairy tales exist in the struggle between the human need to be special and the human need to fit in. It may be that call is exactly the place that fits that need: all are called (to something and usually many things), but all are called uniquely. We are, after all, all uniquely gifted in the world. And God is willing to work with us all to build the kin-dom. The more of us listen to those subtle whisperings within, the faster the work will be done. So, beloved, I believe YOU are called to build the kin-dom. And thanks be to God for that! Amen

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305

http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

January 31, 2016

Sermons

“Holy, Joy, Sharing”based on  Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10 and Luke…

  • January 24, 2016February 15, 2020
  • by Sara Baron

It strikes me as likely that most of you don’t know anything about Nehemiah. In fact, I would guess that the MORE Biblically knowledgeable among you would be fairly likely to assume that Nehemiah is one of the minor prophets. (This assumes Biblical knowledge, clearly, in understanding what the Minor Prophets are. Minor prophets are the prophets whose books are shorter. That’s all.)

Nehemiah is a book of history. It is bound up with the book of Ezra – apparently they were one book for the first 2000 years or so, but now are considered two. They are books about the return from Exile. Those of you who are here all the time may be getting sick of hearing me explain the Exile, but I don’t want to leave anyone behind. So, hold onto your seats, I’m about to review Basic Biblical history and catch everyone up. I’ll try to be informative without being boring. Wish me luck.

This is a story that starts with Abraham. Abraham heard the call of God to leave the land of his ancestors and start a new life. God made promises to Abraham that he’d be the father of a multitude, and that his descendants were specially blessed to be a blessing to the world. He was married to Sarah, who may or may not have been his half sister. She was barren for a LOOOOOOOONG time, and to make it sound simpler than it was, she eventually had a kid named Issac.

Issac married Rebecca (whose father AND grandfather were Issac’s first cousins), and they were barren for a mere LOONG time and then had twins named Esau and Jacob. Esau was the older twin, but Jacob was the one whom Rebecca and God favored. Jacob was a bit of a trickster, but no more so than his uncle Laban, his mother Rebecca’s brother. He went to live with Laban for a few decades and when he returned he had two wives, two concubines, 12 sons, an unknown number of daughters, and a lot of wealth. Those 12 sons would become the fathers of the 12 tribes.

Jacob’s two favorite sons were Joseph and Benjamin, the sons of Rachel, his favorite wife. (Did I forget to mention that both of Jacob’s wives were his first cousins?) The older of the two was so obnoxious in his status as his father’s favorite that the rest of the sons sold him to slavery in Egypt. The Bible suggests that God favored him, so Joseph eventually became the right hand to the Pharaoh. He instituted a pretty severe taxation system that involved Egypt having great stores of food and the poor people not having any. Meanwhile there was a famine in Israel (which happens in desert climates). The brothers came down to buy grain so they wouldn’t die, it was all sorts of dramatic, but eventually everyone moved down to Egypt.

Then there was a new ruler, the family stopped being in favor, and they became slaves. Then there was Moses, they say about 400 years later. Or, rather, we should say, then there were two very wise, caring,and manipulative midwives who refused direct orders and helped Moses come into the world. His mother and sister were also wise, caring, and manipulative, and Moses (who was supposed to be killed upon his birth because that’s what they were doing to Hebrew babies) got raised as the adoptive grandson of the current Pharaoh.

Then there are some parts you’ve likely heard about: Moses had compassion for his people, but then he killed a guy, so he had to go away; he went into the desert; he had an experience of God initiated by a burning bush, God sent him to be the leader of the people; he whined about his stammer, Aaron got to help; there were conversations, there were plagues, the people were freed; the Pharaoh changed his mind, and the army died in the sea. Or, at least, that’s one of the versions the Bible tells.

Then the people wander in the desert for a few generations. Afterward, Joshua leads them into the land, and after his death for about 300 hundred years, random leaders emerged when the people needed them and otherwise they just settled in. Then the people wanted a King, and they got Saul, and Saul was crazy (maybe), so they got David, and David was a jerk (for sure) and after he died they got Solomon who was really not a whole lot better than Pharaoh. Which is likely why after the death of Solomon there was a civil war and the North seceded from the South. The North gets called Israel, the South is called Judah.

A little over 200 years later the North – Israel – is defeated by the Assyrian empire, goes into exile, and never returns. That’s 722 BCE. About 150 years after that, the South – Judah – gets defeated by the Babylonian Empire (587/586 BCE) and goes into exile. Then in 539 the Persian Empire lead by Cyrus beats out the Babylonian Empire and the exiles are free to go home.

Except a lot of them didn’t. Some went home. They started rebuilding the Temple. But a lot stayed put. About 100 years later a Jewish man named Nehemiah was the cupbearer to the King, and he he heard a report from men from Judah of the terrible lives being led there. It took him to prayer and prayer brought him before the King asking for a favor – to be sent to Judah to rebuild the walls of the city. He was appointed the governor of Judah.

The walls had been down for nearly 150 years. ALL IT TOOK was for someone to organize – the people COULD do it, the issue was that unless everyone did it t the same time it wouldn’t really matter. With Nehemiah’s hope, vision, and money, it worked. Some organized and rebuilt the gates, and then each family rebuilt the part of the wall that was next to their house (or, more likely) a part of their house. It wasn’t that anyone had that much work to do. It is just that unless your neighbors rebuilt too it wouldn’t really help – invaders could still come in.

It took 12 years for Nehemiah to work with the people, to face down the opposition, and to get the walls back up. That’s where our lesson for today comes in – right after the walls were complete. It seems that the people who gathered at the Water Gate hadn’t heard the whole story, all put together, either. The Water Gate was an interesting choice of location for this event, because the Temple had been rebuild. But the Temple didn’t have space for EVERYONE – for men AND women AND children. So they gathered where they could all fit, and they heard their own story from start to finish. (I’d guess that what was read was an early version of the Torah.)

It seems reasonable that the people would weep after hearing it. It is a good story! Furthermore, the story is intentionally designed to bring the past into the present, and for the people who just completed the restoration of Jerusalem, that would be incredibly powerful. They were hearing their stories within the gates and the walls of the city for the first time in 7 generations.

But the command they’re given doesn’t give them time to live in their weeping. They’re told not to weep – not for the 7 generations that missed this chance – not for anything. They’re supposed to PARTY. (I don’t make up the Lectionary. Therefore I don’t make up the PARTY theme. It is in the Bible.) Nor do I make up the theme that the whole deal is that we get to enjoy life as long as we share the joy. Nehemiah told the people, “Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our LORD; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.”

Eat the GOOD stuff. Savor the wonder of it all. And share. Because it is holy, and that’s how it works. From the time of Abraham the idea is “blessed to be a blessing.” When you are able to feast on the richest food there is you should enjoy it, and SHARE. Wow. I really do love the story of Nehemiah. It is the story of what can be done when the people work together. And this passage is the story of the transformative power of worship and the stories of God. The whole book is the story of what can happen when one person’s heart is opened to the blight of others, and it is the story of the restoration. Nehemiah doesn’t just talk about the “good stuff” of life, the book of Nehemiah is some of the good stuff.

Thematically, the Gospel lesson and Nehemiah seem like kindred spirits. The Gospel tells of Jesus at his home synagogue reading the lesson from Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because (God) has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. (God) has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.“ The other synoptic gospels put this later in Jesus’s ministry, but Luke seems intentional in putting it right in the beginning. For Luke, this is Jesus’s mission statement. Or maybe this is Luke’s thesis statement.

The words would have already been known to be connected to the Messianic expectation. (Which by the way is also all about the Exile, but I can leave that for another day.) They’re words we still use in our formal Communion liturgy. They are powerful words. They are words of restoration. They are words that reflect God’s care for all of God’s people, and not just the ones that societies tend to think are of value.

God wants a message brought to the poor – and it is good news for them.

God sends a message to the captives – and it is release of their captivity for them.

God messenger is to bring sight to the blind.

God’s work is to let the oppressed become free again.

God’s story is the proclamation of the jubilee.

The Jubilee is another Hebrew Bible idea that doesn’t get enough press. It is the Torah law that says that every 49 years all the fields are to lay fallow, all debts are to be forgiven, and all land is to be returned to its original owners. Jubilee is one of the ways that God’s vision for community in the Torah prevents cycles of poverty. For Jesus to read this passage is to connect his life with the care for the poor, the sick, and the oppressed, and the incarcerated.

Luke put this story at the beginning of his Gospel because he thought this was the point. The life of Jesus participated in God’s work of freedom, healing, and transformation. To be poor in Jesus’s time was similar to being poor today and being poor in the time of Nehemiah – it increased the chance you would die young after having struggled mightily. God isn’t interested in leaving people in those conditions.

Which means that for Luke, the work of the Body of Christ (US!) is that vision from Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon us, because God has anointed us to bring good news to the poor. God has sent is to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Or, maybe we like it from Nehemiah, “Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared…”

We are to care for each other, and enjoy the goodness of life, and work toward a more just world. Let’s get back to it! Amen

–

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

January 24, 2016

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  • Schenectady, NY 12305
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